


Partners In Crime (And Love)

by RikkuReads



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Banter, Bisexual Peter, Boys Kissing, Crime Fighting, Deadpool Thought Boxes, Drinking, Flirting, Fluff, Fun-loving but dark, Its Deadpool so what do you expect, M/M, Mild Smut, Parties, Quips, Seductive Wade, Sex Trafficking, Sexual Tension, Warning there is messed up shit, comedic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:54:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24157693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RikkuReads/pseuds/RikkuReads
Summary: At first, Spider-man isn't too fond of Deadpool, The Merc With A Mouth. But after certain circumstances push them together, they soon become good friends. You could even say partners in crime...
Relationships: Felicia Hardy/Peter Parker, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Spider-Man/Deadpool
Kudos: 37





	1. Lightbulb

**Author's Note:**

> {..} is Deadpool’s yellow box  
> [..] is Deadpool’s white box

{One fine evening, a man, very muscular by the looks of it, sat on a rooftop, his legs dangling off the edge. He wore a red leotard and he, in fact, was a spectacular gymnast.}

"Hey! You're getting it all wrong! I am, in fact, a merc. But I guess you could call me a gymnast because I'm amazing at acrobatics just like my friend Spider-hey! There he goes!"

  
{Maybe he'll play with us}  
[Me likey]

A blue and red blur zipped past the merc and landed on a building across the street. He looked to be busy fighting off some bad guys on gliders and didn't look twice to see the merc sitting a few meters away.

"Spidey! You-who. Over here!" The merc stood up and waved his hands.

"Not him again," mumbled Peter once he realized Wade was hollering at him.

"Need some help Pete?" asked Wade in a childish tone.

"Nope I'm perfectly-" but before Peter could finish his sentence he was knocked off his feet by a glider. "-fine." He said once he was flat on the ground.

"You don't need to ask me twice," said Wade enthusiastically as he unholstered his pistols and started shooting like crazy.

"No! Stop killing! I meant I'm fine, not that you can help me!"

{I think he's mad}  
[Uh-oh]

"Too late now, Petey," said Wade as he finished off the last guy with his katanas. A glider came straight for him but he jumped onto it and started flying around with ease. "Wow! These things are fun! Can we keep it?"

"No," said Peter as he shot an electrical web at the glider. It started smoking and fell to the streets below. Wade jumped onto the roof before he could go down with it.

"Why are you such a buzzkill?" snarked Wade.

"It would be incriminating to use their equipment," said Peter matter-of-factly.

"Well you know what? I sort of am a criminal!" exclaimed Wade. "Next time let me have a go!"

Peter shook his head and sighed. "I gotta run. Thanks for the help anyway."

"Where you off too?"

"I got evicted," Peter sighed. "I'm going to my aunt's place to ask if I could stay there for a while."

At that moment an idea so great popped into Wade's head that he could practically see the lightbulb on top of his head.

  
{Lightbulb!}  
[Oooh shiny]

"Stay at my place! I've got lots of room since Vanessa left me," he said blatantly. The bug-like eyes of Peter's mask widened.

"Oh, I'm sorry Wade, I-"

  
{Don't cry, Peter won't like you if you cry}  
[Keep it together man!]

"No need to be sorry. No time for that." There was a short silence before he spoke again. "If you're gonna come with me, we've got things to do."

"What things?" asked Peter, afraid of the answer.

"Come on, I'll show you," said the merc, jumping off the building. Peter stood there for a second, contemplating, until he heard Wade call up from the street. "How seductive do I need to be?"

Peter scoffed but decided to go along with it, only because he knew how bad Wade must be feeling about Vanessa. He wondered for a moment why she would just leave. Peter always thought they were soulmates. He shot his web out and followed Wade, swinging above him. They made a small detour to grab Peter's duffel bag that he had stashed on someone's roof.

Only a few minutes later they arrived at Wade's apartment. He opened the door and the scent of burning rubber smacked him right in the face. He didn't bother to ask what it was, thinking Wade wouldn't tell him anyway.

"Mi casa es su casa." said Wade, giving Peter a slap on the shoulder. "Make yourself at home. Now I gotta go wash this stuff off my hands. You probably don't wanna know what it is."

Peter gave an awkward chuckle and looked around. The place was a mess. Pizza boxes were piled high, the couch was peeling away, and the kitchen sink was filled with a thick, black liquid. Did he melt a tire in here? How?

Wade walked back into the living room. "Hey, you wanna see something?" After a small pause and some internal dialogue he said, "Don't worry, I won't jump his spider bones juuust yet."

"Uh..what?" Peter raised his eyebrows in concern.

"Did I say that out loud?"

Wade motioned for him to come into the bedroom. He opened the door and pulled Peter in. Oh god, where could this be going, he thought.

Peter was surprised to see an old arcade game sitting in the corner, it's purple screen lighting up the room. Wade smiled and walked towards it, a small skip in his step.

"Space Invaders," said Peter in awe.

"Yup!"

"Awesome."

"Give it a go. In the mean time I've got some errands to run," said Wade, grabbing a handful of rubber duckies and making his way out the door.

"Your high score is a hundred thousand?" called out Peter in disbelief.

"Well I didn't wanna brag or anything," smirked Wade, closing the door.

Peter played a couple of games but he soon became incredibly tired and decided to take a power nap on Wade's couch. Surprisingly, it was very comfy.

He fell asleep almost immediately.


	2. Not Even Odin Himself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some good ol’ web slinging fun... and killing... and a whole lot of banter.

When Peter woke up, he was pretty sure the smell of burnt rubber had killed some brain cells while he slept. He was starting to regret staying at Wade’s, but after thinking about it, he decided there was no better place to go. Sure, he could go to May’s, but Peter had realized years ago that it wouldn’t be the best place for Spider-man to live. May always worried herself to death after seeing him come home late at night, beaten and bruised. He had to live like that for three years until he finally turned eighteen and moved into his own apartment. 

Peter rubbed his eyes and squinted at the sunlight shining in through the living room window. Wade was in the kitchen making pancakes. "Rise and shine, Spider-boy," he beamed, pouring batter onto a frying pan. "What are we gonna do today?"

"We aren't going to do anything," said Peter, sitting up. "I have to work at the lab.”

"What are you cooking up over there? Crystal meth? Sparkly dildos?” teased Wade. Peter scoffed and grabbed his duffel bag off the floor where he had lazily tossed it the night before.

“Wait, hey! How about a super duper cool spider goo shooter?” suggested Wade, setting a huge plate of pancakes onto the table.

"Spider goo?" Peter retorted.

"You know, the stuff that shoots out your butt." 

"It doesn't shoot out of my butt! It's comes out my-" 

"Look, I don't need a visual. I just wish I had some cool way to get around the city like you do,” Wade tried to reason.

"How about a grapple hook?" suggested Peter.

"C'mon Pete, I'm not about to rip off Batman!" exclaimed Wade, flipping a pancake and spewing batter everywhere.

"What?" Peter stuffed his face full of pancakes and pulled his mask on. 

"Nothing," said Wade, shying away.

"I don't have time for this, Wade. I'm late." Peter looked at his watch.

"Can I at least have a ride?" asked Wade.

"What do you mean? I don’t have a car...” Peter trailed off when he noticed the smug look on Wade’s face.

“You know... a spider ride!” cheered Wade excitedly as he pulled on his mask and grabbed his katanas from the kitchen table.

Peter laughed nervously. “You're not serious?"

"I'm as serious as they come, honey bun."

Peter couldn't believe Wade had talked him into this. The next thing he knew they were swinging through the city, Wade on his back, arms and legs wrapped around him. "It's just how I imagined it! We’re like Tobey and Kirsten! Now, ride us into the sunset, will ya?” said Wade happily.

“Where am I taking you?”

“I just told you! Into the sunset my fair prince,” said Wade, mocking Thor’s accent.

“Do you want me to drop you?” threatened Peter. Wade tightened his grip around him. 

“Does someone need to take that stick outta your ass? Cause it would be my pleasure,” said Wade as Peter took them around a corner. “It’s actually a fantasy of mine... but that’s beside the point,” he whispered in Peter’s ear. 

Before Wade knew it, Peter had flung him into the side of a building and through the glass of a window. 

“I didn’t take you as the masochist type of guy,” he shouted, pulling a big shard of glass from his shoulder as Spider-man zipped away. 

{He’s gone, my fair princess.}  
[He’s left us stranded on this godforsaken soil!]

Wade was left standing in an office covered in broken glass, scrambling to apologize to a man who was three times bigger than him. The big scary fucker was not having any of it and decided to pick Wade up by the neck and toss him out the broken window. He crashed onto the pavement below, feeling a few bones snap. People rushed to make a circle around him on the sidewalk and stared down at the merc. When he was done groaning and writhing around on the ground, he sat up and cracked his neck back into place, then looked up at the crowd’s dumbstruck faces. 

“What can I say? People are into some kinky shit these days.” He stood up and pushed through them. A man called his name.

“You need a hospital Wade? Or God?”

Wade didn't need to turn around and see who it was. The voice was familiar enough. It belonged to Gerry, an annoying old pal of his. "Fuck off Ger!" Without turning, he flipped off the drunken fool and kept walking along the street. “Not even Odin himself can help me,” he muttered.

He soon arrived at Sister Margaret’s and took a seat at the bar. “You don’t look so hot,” teased Weasel. “What’s got ya down? Want a little screaming orgasm to take the edge off?” A merc sitting next to them choked on his drink and stared. “It’s a drink, my friend. Don’t get all cross-eyed at me.”

“Can’t get drunk,” Wade reminded him.

“More like can’t get an orgasm.”

“Watch it,” hissed Wade.

“A little touch starved there, 'Pool?”

“Shut up, Fogell.”

“Hey. It’s McLovin. Get it right,” chided Weasel.

“Just show me the files,” snarled Wade. Weasel slapped down a bunch of folders on the bar and picked one out of the bunch. “I think you’ll like this one,” grinned Weasel. 

“A pedofile, you shouldn’t have! Now I can’t stay mad at you!”

“His name’s Tim. He’s rich as hell. It's why he always gets outta custody, the slippery bastard.”  


Thirty minutes later, Wade climbed up a fire escape and found Tim sunbathing on the roof of his penthouse. As soon as he got to the top, he heard a gun cock to his right. “This is private property. Get the fuck-“

Wade had shot the guard before he could finish his sentence. Blood splattered out behind him on the wall. 

“Really? You need a bodyguard to watch you sunbathe?” taunted Wade, strutting over to a startled Tim. Two more men came up some stairs and ran in their direction. “Three? Really?”

With ease, Wade kicked one in the chest and drove a katana through the other. They both collapsed to the floor, squirming in pain. The one that was kicked pulled himself up and swung a fist at Wade. He dodged it and threw a nasty uppercut. Blood gushed out of the bodyguard's nose and mouth. Stumbling backwards, he tripped and hit the back of his head on the hard cement.

“Not even three is good enough. Sorry for your loss, Timmy,” said Wade patting him gently on the back. 

“W-who are you?” Tim's voice shook. 

“Your friendly neighbourhood merc,” said Wade, shooting Tim in the head. He shot him twice more in the chest for good luck. 

After getting paid, he went back to his apartment and slumped onto the couch.

{I wonder if Webs will come back}  
[We want Spidey!]

“He won't,” Wade muttered. “After what we pulled today he’ll never wanna talk to us again.” 

Wade took off his suit then put on his Unicorn pajama bottoms and switched on the TV. 

{Golden Girls!}  
[Our favourite]

After a few episodes Wade heard the window slide open. He pulled a pistol out of the couch cushions and and turned around, his grip tight on the weapon. 

“Pete! You’re back!” 

“Why are you so surprised?” asked Peter, climbing in and taking off his mask. He stared at Wade. “Shit I’ve never seen you... like that.”

“Even worse than my face, hey? Thanks for noticing,” sneered Wade, sitting back down on the couch.

“I didn’t say you looked bad or anything, I just-“ Peter stopped himself before he said something he’d regret. 

“Relax, Webs. I’ve come to terms with it. Freddie Krueger was a role model of mine, actually,” said Wade, getting a chuckle out of Peter. “Come take a load off, Petey. You look tired.”

“Hey, is that Golden Girls?” asked Peter, flopping down onto the couch beside Wade.

“Yupperoo!”

After bonding over old white haired ladies, Peter started telling Wade about some biker goons he'd passed by on the way back from the lab. “I think they’ve got some kind of business running out of this motel,” he explained. 

“Drug deal?” asked Wade.

“My guess is human trafficking. Saw some rich white dudes sitting in expensive cars, just hanging out in the parking lot. They didn’t seem like the type to be staying at a two star motel.”

“Damn! Detective Spidey on a roll! So, what d’ya say? Me and you, go jam a nail in their coffin?” Wade started to get excited and sat up. His eyes focused on Peter's. 

“We’re not killing them,” argued Peter. “And there’s no ‘me and you.’ You’re not invited.”

“Suit yourself, Webs. Just know I won’t come a running next time if you’re stuck between the subway and it’s tracks," Wade countered, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. 

“Sure you won’t,” sighed Peter. 

They stayed up late that night, binge watching Golden Girls and eating leftover pancakes. At some point Peter fell asleep, and somehow, his head came to rest on Wade's lap. 

“I could get used to this,” grinned Wade as ran his fingers through Peter's curly brown hair. 


	3. Easier Said Than Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking the hands out of the guns of the criminals!

The next morning Wade woke up to the sound of muffled screams coming from the apartment above. It took him a moment to realize what he was hearing. "The fuck?" he mumbled, still half asleep. The sound of a shotgun firing and its empty shells hitting the floor got his full attention. His eyes shot open and he sat up, looking around the living room. His mind immediately went to last night, when him and Peter had fallen asleep on the couch together. Then he realized Peter was gone and the window leading to the fire escape had been left wide open. 

{You should open the window up more often} 

[Always smells like a boot full of piss in here] 

Wade grabbed his mask from the floor and pistol from the couch cushion, then climbed out the window and up the fire escape. Once he got to the next floor, he crawled through his neighbor's window and pointed his gun at the first thing he saw. It was Peter, trying to untie a rope that was holding a woman's wrists together. The stares they gave Wade made him realize how ridiculous he must have looked. There he was, standing in front of them ready for a fight, wearing only his mask and unicorn pajama bottoms. "Nice, Wade," said Peter, smirking at him. 

Wade lowered his gun and tilted his head to get a better look at the woman’s face. She had kind eyes, despite the fact eyeliner was smudged around them, making her look like a raccoon. The messy black hair and pale brown skin added to the effect. "Shit, what happened? You don't look so good, darlin'.” 

Wade looked around the room. A man was webbed to the wall, squirming to get free, and another was knocked out cold on the floor. There were bullet holes in the wall. 

"I heard her crying, so I came up here and found these guys doing god knows what to her," Peter explained, still struggling to unite the ropes. Wade pulled a switchblade out of his pocket. "Here," he said. Peter stood back and let him cut the woman free. She leapt forward and wrapped her arms around Wade, hugging him tightly. 

"Gracias, señor. gracias!" she cried, tears streaming down her face. He held her head against his chest and stroked her hair. 

"What the fuck did they do to you?" he asked, sharing a concerned look with Peter. He studied the man webbed to the wall. "David?" Wade pried the Mexican woman from his waist and directed her to Peter. She grabbed hold and thanked him as well. 

"You know that guy?" Peter asked. 

"He lives here. Always been a good neighbor..." Wade said as he walked up to David and held the switchblade against his neck. "...until now," he snarled. 

"Please don't kill me, man. It wasn't my idea! Ol' Gary there talked me into it. Said we'd have fun!" panicked David. 

"Well ol' Gary is gonna get what's comin' to him. And so are you." Wade pressed the blade down and drew a small amount of blood. 

"Stop! Don't kill him. I need to ask him something!" shouted Peter. He told the woman to sit on the bed and came to stand beside Wade. "Did you get her from a motel?" 

David kept his mouth shut, breathing hard through his nose. 

"Tell us," hissed Wade, pressing the knife further into his skin. 

"Okay, okay! Yes! We bought her from the one on 79th Street," sobbed David. 

"What a fucking pussy," muttered Wade, backing away. The man had peed himself. He wanted desperately to kill him but knew Peter would get mad. 

{Kill him anyway} 

[Dooo itttt] 

"That’s the place I was telling you about. I’m gonna go check it out again. Can I trust you to call the police and not kill them?" Peter placed a hand on Wade's shoulder. Chills ran down his spine at the touch on his bare skin. 

{Really? You're turned on right now? At this moment?} 

[What a loser] 

"Sure Pete, but can't I come with you? I wanna see these fuckers burn," he said, gritting his teeth. 

"This isn't one of your mercenary jobs. Just let me handle it." 

At that, Peter climbed out the window and jump down the fire escape to grab his suit. A minute later Wade saw him zip away and disappear around the side of a building. 

\--- 

Peter perched at the top of a water tower and surveyed the motel. Motorcycles lined the front of the building. He thought they might own the place, considering the fact that they were getting away with this at a motel, of all places. He could see through the window a group of men sitting the office, smoking cigars and playing cards. They seemed distracted so Peter swung across the street and landed on the motel. He stuck himself to the wall above the door to room number four and waited to see if anyone would come out. He decided he needed to stay unseen, just in case he was wrong about the sex trafficker thing. He didn’t want to hurt any innocent people. 

Sure enough, the door below him opened and a man stepped out. Peter crawled in onto the ceiling and hid in the shadows. Lucky for him, the room was dark. Peter head the lock click on the other side of the door and the man shuffling towards the office. 

He looked around the room. There were two women on the bed and a big tattooed man sitting in a chair watching TV. Another young woman laid on the floor, looking up at Peter. She didn’t say anything, only stared, her bottom lip shuddering. He found that the right side of her face was badly bruised, hair sticky with blood around the temple. 

Peter's spider-sense went off, but not soon enough. The door burst open and a familiar masked man stepped inside. Wade. What an idiot. 

“What kinda Brokeback gay cowboy lovin’ shit is going on in here?” 

The tattooed man shot up and reached for his gun that was tucked into the waist of his jeans. Deadpool shot him in the shoulder before he could pull it out. 

“I told you to let me handle this,” growled Peter. 

“I couldn’t’ve just stayed home, knowing these guys were here and needed some serious head chopping.” Wade poked his head out the door and once he saw a crowd of men running towards him, he pulled out his katanas. 

“Wait,” is all Peter could say before Wade sliced a man’s stomach open and ducked, stabbing his other katana through another man’s neck. He bounced himself off the wall and used it as leverage to jump onto a man, knocking him off his feet and driving a katana into his chest. Two more men arrived with assault rifles. Peter webbed one guy’s gun away, but the other emptied a clip into the Wade. “Fuck,” he grunted, pulling his katanas out of a disfigured body. Peter dodged the bullets and knocked the armed man out in one punch. 

Him and Wade looked at the last guy who Peter had taken the gun away from. He was kneeling on the ground, hands up, pleading for them not to kill him. Wade strut towards him but Peter grabbed him. 

“Don’t.” 

“All good Spidey, just wanna interrogate him.” Wade punched the terrified man in the face, knocking him onto his side. “Are there more of you?” 

“No! It was only us. I swear,” he whimpered, rubbing his jaw. 

Peter went back inside to tell the women they were safe. The one girl was still on the floor, but she had sat up. He tried to help her to her feet, but she swatted his hand away and muttered something in Spanish. “It’s alright, I won't hurt you,” he told her. 

“Thank you,” said one of the other girls. He looked up and nodded. A scream of pain came from outside and Peter rushed over to find Wade standing beside the man who held a crippled hand to his chest. 

“What did you do?” 

“This man is psycho! He broke all my fingers... aw fuuckk,” he groaned. Wade looked pleased with himself. 

Sirens sounded in the distance. Peter didn’t want to stick around to see what the police had to say about the scene. He swung away, leaving Wade in the parking lot full of dead bodies. “Hey! You’re just gonna run away?” called out Wade as cop cars pulled up beside him. 

After swinging for a few minutes, Peter landed on the top of Wade’s apartment building and took a seat. He couldn’t believe he let Wade kill all those men. He just watched him do it. Sure, they might have deserved it, but it's still so wrong to kill someone like that. Why did he tolerate Wade until now? Why was he living with him? Peter had no idea. They were complete opposite people, but somehow had a lot in common. How is that possible? This thought led to something in the back of his head telling him he felt something for the merc, but he didn’t let it come to light. He had to tell Wade he was moving out. But it might be easier said than done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would love to hear some feedback/constructive criticism if you've got any!


	4. No Remorse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get angsty

About twenty minutes had passed when Peter saw Deadpool round the corner. He didn’t think Wade saw him sitting there, but he stopped and looked up, the white eyes of his mask locking onto Peter’s. “You basically left me there to die... or get raped,” Wade called up to him.

“By police officers?” Peter called back. “Meet me inside. I need to talk to you.”

Wade’s eyes narrowed in question, but he didn’t say anything and walked towards the front entrance. When Peter came in the window he took off his mask and pulled some jeans on over his suit. He had his arms through the sleeves of his ESU hoodie when he heard Wade approach the other side of the door and open it.

“Damn, Pete. Those jeans make your ass look a-ma-zing,” he said, drawing out the syllables. Peter sighed, pulling the hoodie on. “College boy, hey?" Wade closed the door and took the katanas off his back. "Shouldn’t you be getting undressed? The way you spoke to me out there told me you were-"

“-That is _not_ why I told you to come up here."

“Okay drama queen, what is it?” Wade jeered, starting to take off his suit.

“What are you _doing_?” 

Wade tossed his suit onto the floor and stood there in his Hello-Kitty boxers. Peter couldn’t help but blush. Even though Wade was scarred from head to toe, his figure, tall and muscular, was still attractive. The scars didn’t bother Peter. What bothered him was Wade's insecurity about it.

“Today was supposed to be my day off. Just getting into my comfy clothes.”

“Yeah but you didn’t have to strip right h-"

“-Are you intimidated or something? Big strong Spider-man, scared of a guy in his underwear?” teased Wade. He flopped onto the couch and crossed his legs, stretching his arms out on the back cushions. “So... lay it on me,” he said, switching on the TV.

“What?” Peter stared at the man, his cheeks starting to flush even more.

“You gonna tell me something,” reminded Wade. 

“Oh, right. I can’t live with you anymore,” said Peter flatly.

“What, why?” Wade uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. “We were having such a good time here together! I finally found someone who'll watch The Golden Girls with me!”

"Sorry."

"He's in love with someone else," said Wade dramatically. It didn't seem that it was directed at Peter.

“It doesn’t feel right, hanging out with someone that has complete opposite morals as myself. You’re the kind of guy that I put in jail, Wade. You killed all those guys back there after I told you not to come!”

“Oh, so it’s personal. I see,” sighed Wade. Y’know I look up to Spider-Man, right? I just wish I could be as wholesome as him," he said, sauntering into the kitchen. He came back with a Spider-Man baseball cap and placed it on Peter’s head. “I even buy his merch.”

Peter pulled it off his head and looked at the Spider logo.

“You’re still a killer,” mumbled Peter, throwing the hat onto the coffee table. “No remorse.”

“How else am I supposed to make a living? I can't exactly work in customer service...” Wade trailed off, staring at the blank TV screen.

“That’s your excuse?” Peter laughed in spite of him.

“You staying here, it feels right to me,” said Wade quietly. There was a long silence as they stared at one another. Peter sat down close to Wade on the couch. He felt bad, knowing Wade looked up to him. A memory popped into his head that reminded him of Wade’s mental illness. A few months ago, Tony had explained why he was so messed up in the head. It was after Wade had found out that Peter was Spider-Man. Peter and Tony were working in the lab on a new explosive prototype for his Iron-Man suit, and Wade waltzed in, starting an argument with Tony.

This had Tony so distracted that he didn't realize the prototype was about to blow up. Peter grabbed it from Tony’s hands, tossing it out the window and shooting his webs at it to soften the blow. Wade had watched all of this, shocked. “Parker! You’re the spider? Holy fucking shit balls! Spider-Man is a hot piece of ass!” he said, completely over the moon.

When Wade finally left, Tony told Peter about the torture he’d went through to get his powers.

The memory snapped away when he felt Wade’s hand grab his thigh, and for some strange reason, he didn’t push it away. Just a moment later, he was pushed onto his back. They had collided and Wade was on top of him, a leg resting between his own two. They were kissing, and Peter allowed it. He allowed Wade to hold him down. He allowed him to bite his bottom lip and grope in between his thighs. Blood rushed to his groin and he grunted, a sound that Wade took as an invitation. He backed up, getting lower, unbuttoning Peter’s jeans and trying to pull them off. As he did so, he realized Peter was wearing the suit underneath. “Fuck this things gonna be annoying to get off,” Wade groaned. He came back up and Peter hungrily grabbed his face, pulling him back into a kiss.

They stayed in this position for a while, long enough to let Peter’s mind wander. _What are we doing?_ He pulled back and said it out loud. “What are we doing?”

Wade looked at him, flustered.

“Well, I was about to take off-"

“-No, I mean why are we doing this? We're clearly not good for each other,” Peter cut him off.

“Fuck, Webs. I thought we were over that. Can you not see that we’ve gotten along pretty well the past couple of days?” Wade sat back on the other side of the couch. He looked offended.

“I just can’t do this right now,” muttered Peter.

“So you’re just gonna flee? Hide somewhere with your tail tucked between your legs? It won’t fix how you _really_ feel...”

Wade’s cellphone started to ring. The song “Shoop” by Salt-N-Pepa played out as its ringtone. “Fuck off Weasel,” he said, grabbing his phone off the coffee table and answering it. “I’m kinda in the middle of something right-" Wade stopped talking and listened. “You gotta be shitting me,” he moaned, standing up and picking his suit off the floor. “Be there as soon as I can. Don’t tell them anything.” Wade threw his phone back onto the coffee table and slipped on his suit. “Sorry to give you blue balls, but you kinda deserve it.” He pulled on his mask and was gone before Peter could say anything.

“Shit,” he said under his breath.


	5. A Memorial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexy times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: If you've read my past chapters, you should know by now what you're getting into. :)

Peter woke to the song "Hey Ya!" by OutKast blaring from a large speaker. "What the-" he muttered, sitting up and looking around. Wade's apartment was filled with what looked to be strippers and drug dealers. There was a couple sitting at his feet having an intense make-out session. Purple disco lights flashed around the room as people mingled and danced provocatively. The air was humid and the whole place smelt like alcohol and smoke. 

Questions raced through Peter's head. How long did he sleep for? Why the hell didn't he wake up sooner? Was this a joke? Was he dreaming?

Peter looked to his right out the window. It was nighttime. A single street lamp lit up the road and several cars were parked out front. A group of tough looking men stood huddled in a group on the sidewalk, sharing a joint. 

"Hey Petey! Over here!" called Wade's voice. Peter stood up and looked around. Wade was sitting on a recliner across the room. Two women sat beside him on each arm of the chair. One had her arm around him, the other holding a glass up so Wade could sip from a straw. His mask was pulled up halfway, though he wasn't wearing his suit, just an unzipped hoodie showcasing his bare chest and abs, as well as some Spider-Man underwear.

"What's going on?" Peter asked as a tall, young woman passed by, giving him a wink and a brush on the shoulder with her polished black nails. Her hair was so blonde that it looked white. A beautiful, vibrant white.

"Just a little get together, nothing too crazy," said Wade nonchalantly. 

"I think it's a bit past that," snarked Peter.

"Relax, get a drink, maybe pick yourself a lady to take home," grinned Wade. "Or a man."

Peter's face went red. He shook his head and wandered off. Maybe he _should_ relax a little. When was the last time he had a drink? Or fun for that matter?

He weaved his way through the crowd all the way to the kitchen and opened the fridge. It was full of beer and vodka. "Of course," he mumbled to himself. A moment later, the tall woman he had seen earlier came up beside him and took the fridge door, pushing it open wider.

"Hold this," she said drunkenly, shoving a glass into Peter's hands. She opened a bottle of Vodka and used two hands to pour a generous amount into the glass while Peter held it, watching her.

"What?" she said, holding Peter's gaze. "Oh! Sorry. Do you want some?"

"Why not," he shrugged.

"Here, you have this one, I'll pour another."

"How do you know Wade?" asked Peter.

"From Sister Margaret's, the bar. Owner got busted for selling coke and was shut down, so Wade invited us to his place for a 'memorial.' That's what he calls it anyway," she said, pouring another glass.

"Right," said Peter quietly, taking a drink and wincing at the strong taste. He looked over to Wade who was still sitting in the same place, his hands all over the young women. Thoughts were racing through his head, the kind of thoughts he didn't want to be having about his cheeky friend.

"I'm Felicia by the way," the woman said, snapping Peter out of his daydream. 

"Parker. Peter Parker," he replied, shaking her hand.

"Nice to meet you," she simpered, her eyes twinkling. No matter how beautiful Felicia was, all Peter could think about was Wade and his overt charm.

"Can't believe I'm about to do this," he said to himself.

"What's that?" asked Felicia. Peter chugged the whole glass, then grabbed hers and did the same. After handing the glass back he marched himself across the room, leaving the beautiful woman standing there, gaping at him.

"You're a man," he said to Wade boldly.

Wade looked at him blankly but a grin eventually spread across his face. The women sitting next to him just stared. "Excuse me, ladies," said Wade, standing up and wrapping an arm around Peter. "Shall we?" he said, still grinning at Peter as he led him towards the bedroom.

\---

Wade had predicted this might happen, judging by Peter's unshaken gaze at him from across the room. His plan had worked, to make Peter jealous. It was a new low for Wade, but he would do _anything_ to get Peter's attention. In this case, _anything_ meant hanging out with half naked strippers in front of the stuck-up wall crawler.

As soon as the bedroom door closed, Wade had him by the throat and pushed him against the wall, slightly choking him. He could't help his excitement.

{That's kinky}

[Careful! I don't think Spidey's into somnophilia!]

{He is a masochist though}

Ignoring his boxes, Wade pressed his lips to Peter's, tasting the alcohol in his breath. "So you did have a drink," he whispered.

"Mhm," Peter replied with a slight moan. He pulled Wade's hips closer to his, their legs intertwined, playing with the waistband of Wade's Spider-Man boxers. They were basically glued together, the Web-head wouldn't let up.

He could feel Peter's erection rubbing against his thigh. They stumbled over to the bed and Wade pushed him down, the springs quietly squeaking under his weight. He stood in front of him and Peter slipped his hands under Wade's sweater, meeting his eyes with a captivating gaze. Shivers ran down his spine as he pulled Peter's hoodie off. After removing his own, Wade took Peter by the wrists and placed his hands on his abdomen, guiding them, letting him feel every muscle. Peter kissed Wade's abdomen tenderly, holding onto his hips. He then kissed lower and lower, pulling Wade's boxers down as he went. Wade suddenly felt the heat of Peter's mouth overwhelm him. "Fuuckk, Pete," he groaned. He held the back of Peter's head, grasping his hair.

Peter stopped and pulled Wade down, their lips brushed, but he went on to kissing Wade's neck.

"This thing got a zipper?" wondered Wade aloud, trying to find a way to get the suit off.

"Yeah," Peter mumbled, reaching clumsily behind his neck and slowly pulling the zipper down his back. He slipped his arms out and all that remained was the bottom half of his suit and the jeans over top.

"How does that even w-"

Peter laid back, pulling Wade down and shutting him up.

Wade palmed Peter's erection, something that was begging to get out of his pants. Feeling Peter's smooth skin, he tugged down both his layers and threw them on the floor. He leaned over the Wall-crawler, thrusting into him, slow at first, but he quickly picked up the pace. He wasn't afraid to hurt him. He was Spider-Man, after all. 

After ten minutes, Wade collapsed onto Peter, every muscle going slack. He rolled off of him and stared at the ceiling. "That was, better than I'd imagined," Wade said, catching his breath. "You're a dirty little spider. Now I can see why the rain washed you out."

Peter chuckled, pulling up the covers. "And you're the sun," he rasped.

"That dried up all your rain?"

Peter nodded.

{What's that supposed to mean?}

"I dunno."

[It means you're his sunshine]


	6. The Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Black Cat is hot af. That's all.

Peter sat at the edge of the bed, hunched over, his feet on the cold wood floor. The streetlight shone in through the blinds, illuminating parts of the dark bedroom. Wade seemed to be in a deep sleep, judging by his slow, heavy breathing. The party had died down; Peter could hear muffled chatter and the stereo quietly playing a Nirvana song from out in the living room.

He couldn't sleep. It was like a war zone in his brain. He needed to blow off some steam.

After he heard the last few people leave, he slipped on his suit, careful not to wake Wade.

Peter opened the bedroom door and slipped out. He didn't have his mask on and froze when he saw a man sitting on the couch. Luckily he was sleeping, but also not so lucky because he was on the couch cushion that Peter had stashed his mask under. 

He spotted a blanket on the recliner and threw it over himself, making sure his suit wasn't showing. "Hey," he whispered, nudging the man's leg with his foot. He awoke with a snort. 

"W-what's happening?" he said sleepily. "Ma? That you?" 

"Hey dude, get up. You can't sleep here."

"Shit," he muttered, standing up and scratching his head. He seemed pretty out of it so Peter grabbed his mask from the cushion and tucked it under his arm. He then walked to the front door and opened it, watching the man stumble out and down the flight of stairs. 

Peter dropped the blanket and pulled on his mask. He grimaced at the smell. "Am I gonna get pinkeye from wearing this thing?" He jumped out the window and swung away.

Spider-Man traveled aimlessly through the night, enjoying the cool breeze whirling through his suit.

He felt bad, leaving Wade. But all he could think about was the fact that he had done the exact thing he told himself not to do. He really liked Wade, but the guy was a cold blooded killer. They could never work out. _Might as well get away before I get attached._ "God, I'm such an asshole."

After a few minutes, he heard a security alarm go off. "Good timing," he said, swinging towards the sound. It was coming from a penthouse with a large outdoor area. Peter landed on the roof and scanned the place, but he couldn't find anyone.

"Hello, Spider," said a voice from behind him. He spun around, finding a woman who wore a mask over her eyes and slick black suit, fitting her every curve. The low collar with white fur around it accentuated her breasts. She also had long, beautiful, white hair. _Felicia_. "Or should I call you Peter?" she said, grinning menacingly.

He gaped at her. "Uh-"

"-Save those bug-eyed looks for later. I wanna see what you can do," she smirked, jumping off the building. Peter ran to the edge and caught her hand with his web. 

"What the hell are you doing?" he gasped, pulling her up.

"Just wanted to see you in action," she said amorously. She held out her other hand and he grabbed it, lifting her onto the roof. "And I wasn't disappointed." 

"What's your game here?"

"To get your attention," she said, running her fingers along his collar bone as she strut past him. He turned to face the elegant woman, watching her every move. "I've got it now don't I?"

"Felicia, right? Were you robbing this place?" 

"I only set off the alarm to get you over here," she explained, crossing her arms and sticking out a hip. Peter noticed her gloves had claws. They looked sharp enough to cut through glass.

"How do you know who I am?'

"You're just full of questions, aren't you Pete?"

"Well yeah, you were at Wade's place drunk as hell, and now you're here, looking like a sexy cat."

"So you like what you see?" she purred.

"Just answer the question," said Peter, unamused.

"I found your mask in the couch cushions. I knew Spider-Man was staying at Wade's, so I assumed you were him."

"Why me?" 

"The whole party was from Sister Margaret's. You don't exactly fit into that kind of crowd." Felicia came up close and caressed his cheek. He studied her face from her big green eyes and down to her soft, supple looking lips.

"So you've been stalking me or something?" 

"That's what cats do," she said, running and diving off the roof again. Peter was about to shoot a web, but she shot back up and landed on another building.

"The cat plays with string! Makes sense," shouted Peter, zipping over. 

"You're funny, Spider," said Felicia, her eyes twinkling. "I didn't think I'd catch you out here. Sounded like you were having fun with Wilson back there," she smirked.

Peter laughed nervously. "Heh... were we that loud?" 

"Only if someone were to press their ear against the door," she replied shamelessly. Peter sighed. _What's with this girl?_ He realized she must be bad news, just by the look of her costume and the kind of people she hung out with. "What's this? Did the big brood hurt your sensitive Spider feelings?" Felicia teased him.

"No," Peter sulked.

"You wanna tell me what's on your mind?" She sounded genuine this time.

"No," Peter sulked. Sirens sounded in the distance. 

"We better get outta here Pete." Felicia motioned for him to follow her. She used her grapple as she jumped gracefully from building to building. He followed her, suspicious of her intent.

"Are you a mercenary?" Peter asked after they were far away from the penthouse. They sat together on a random fire escape. 

"I'm not like your friend, if that's what you're asking."

Peter broke her gaze, looking down at his feet. He felt compelled to say what he couldn't shake from his mind.

"So Wade, he's really fun to be around and stuff, right? Just being in his vicinity feels intoxicating, but in a good way, y'know?" 

"I know the feeling too well," Felicia intoned. 

"Good. So you'll understand what I mean when I say I hate him for it," said Peter harshly.

"Because he's a killer."

"Exactly."

"You need a place to stay tonight?" she asked after a moment, reaching for his hand and placing it on her inner thigh.

There was an intense silence between them before Peter spoke up.

"...Yeah."


	7. Tony Fucking Masters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade gets jealous

Peter woke up wrapped in the sheets of a king-sized bed. He tried to lift his head, but it started pounding violently and he let out a long groan. He had no idea where he was or how he ended up there. The last thing he remember was Felicia... "Shit."

"Hey lover," came a calm voice. Felicia was standing in the doorway looking him up and down. Her hair was tangled and all she wore was a bra and sweatpants. 

"Felicia, w-what happened? Why does my head hurt so bad?" 

"It's called a hangover. You drank my whole bottle of gin last night," she said bitterly.

"Sorry... is that stuff expensive?" Peter propped himself up against the headboard. He looked down at his naked chest and pulled the sheets up.

"No need to be shy, Pete," she smirked.

"Did we..." he paused, trying to find the right words.

"Did we what?" Felicia said teasingly, climbing onto the bed.

"Y'know..." 

Peter's mouth went dry at the look on her face.

"You don't remember?" she asked, crawling up to him on her hands and knees.

"Not one thing," he said, pulling the covers up to his neck. She held onto the headboard with one hand and straddled him, her face only an inch away from his. She used her other hand to push the one curl of hair off his face. Felicia was so close that he could feel her warm breath on his mouth. "Would it be so bad if we did?" she purred. Peter was unnerved by her intense eye contact and tried to move away, but there was nowhere to go.

"Two people in one night, who the hell am I? Don Juan?" he mumbled.

Felicia giggled. "I never said we actually did anything."

"What?"

"You passed out after I got your pants off."

Peter let out a sigh of relief. "Thank god."

"Doesn't mean we can't do anything about that now," she whispered. Peter knew what she was hinting at. He took his hands out from under the covers and pushed her away gently. She sat back on his lap.

"Look...uh... I don't think my conscience will let me do this right now," he said timidly. "I have to apologize to Wade." Felicia sneered and dug her nails into his thighs. "Ow!" he cried. "Nice kitty." 

Felicia tried not to smile, but eventually gave in. She started to laugh and let out a cute snort. Her cheeks flushed and she slapped a hand over her mouth, but she didn't stop laughing. "I'm the nicest," she said, crawling over to sit beside him. "Only because I didn't rape you last night."

"Thanks for that," said Peter. He couldn't hide his grin.

\---

Wade dug through the cupboard, pulling pots and pans out onto the floor, making loud clanging noises. He opened another cupboard door and the hinges broke off. 

{He just left us.}

[We're worthless, scum, disgusting.]

{It's all our fault}

"Where the fuck is it?" he growled and stood up, throwing a glass across the room. It smashed onto the wall just as the front door opened. Weasel ducked his head and covered his face with an arm, but once he realized what was happening he straightened out and looked around the place. "Was this my farewell party?" he asked.

"Weasel? How'd you-"

"-Get out of jail? Yeah. Thanks for the bail."

"Hey I'm sorry Weas. I-uh, got a little distracted."

"I can see that," he said, stepping over the glass. "Al got me out. Did you know that bitch had money?"

"She probably sold my rubber ducks," he sighed, falling onto the couch.

"The ones you filled with cocaine?"

"Yup."

"Oh, the irony," said Weasel smugly. "Anyway, I came over to tell you Taskmaster's here in Queens. He's trying to track down his next big score."

" _Oh_ _Really_?" said Wade, perking up. He'd had a long history with the mercenary. "Who's he looking for?"

"Felicia Hardy. You might want to warn her." Wade had been friends with Felicia for years. They butt heads a lot, but she was always good company. 

{ _Really_ _good_ company}

[Wink wink]

"Guess I'd better," said Wade menacingly, checking the magazine on both his pistols.

"You see my mask anywhere? I've been looking for it all morning." 

"Right in front of you, numskull."

Wade looked down at the coffee table. It was lying there covered in cigarette ash. "Oh," he said, shaking it and pulling it on.

"Something on your mind, Wade?"

"No," he scoffed, taking his phone out from his pocket. It rang forever until Felicia finally picked up.

 _"What do you want, Mr. W?"_ she answered in her usual teasing voice.

"Tasky's out for your blood. Thought you might like to know. But don't worry, I'll take care of him for ya."

_"Is that so?"_

"Mhm. Leave it to me, sugar tits."

Wade grinned up at Weasel.

_"But kitty wants to play! This spider just isn't doing it for her anymore."_

"What?" Wade shifted in his seat.

_"You heard me."_

"You're saying you beat Spidey's ass? Cause I don't think that's possible. He could lay you out easily, Cat." Wade wedged the phone between his ear and shoulder, pulling some bullets from his cartridge belt.

_"I'm sure he could."_

"What're you going on about then?" he asked, loading a magazine. 

_"I can taste you in his breath. What is that? Raspberry... cherry? A hint of self-pity, maybe?_ _"_

Wade went quiet. His smile faded as quick as it had appeared. 

_"Good. Now you're catching on. Give yourself a pat on the back, why don't you?"_

He ended the call and stood up, holstering his pistols. "That bitch," he snarled.

"What'd she say?" asked Weasel, watching Wade stalk over to the door. 

"I'm gonna scare Task away, then kill that fucking cat."

\---

"Who was that?" asked Peter when Felicia walked back into the bedroom.

"Work," she said, picking a shirt off the floor and pulling it on.

"So if you're not a merc, what are you?" Peter scanned the room for his suit but couldn't find it. 

"I'm a P.I. Work for Shield sometimes too." 

"Oh," said Peter, getting out of bed. He became light headed and sat back down, holding his head and letting out a whimper. Felicia left and came back with a glass of water.

"You can stay here as long as you want," she said, handing the glass to him.

"Thanks," he said, taking a sip. He looked at the alarm clock on the bed side table. _10 A.M._ "I gotta go. Late for work." He stood up and Felicia stared down, biting her lip. He shook his head and went to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face. Staggering to the living room, he spotted his suit hanging over the arm of the couch. As he pulled it on, he took looked around her apartment. It was small, but it was decorated with some pretty expensive looking things. A big screen TV, a cool sound system, high-end perfumes, and a brand new laptop. She had a desk covered in cords and a few flash-drives, as well as an empty duffel bag and different kinds of gadgets and a... _smoke bomb?_

"Do you work for Shield too?" asked Felicia, brushing her long white hair out. 

"Nope. I work for Stark Industries, building computers for the labs there."

"So you've got the brains and the brawn, huh?" 

"Yeah, well," he said, giving a modest chuckle and pulling on his mask.

"You're an Avenger too though, right?"

"Sometimes," he said. Felicia gave a questioning look. "Only if they really need me," he explained further, opening the window. 

"Oh." Felicia winced as she tried to get a knot out of her hair. "See you tonight?"

"Yeah, sure. See you tonight," he said, jumping out the window and zipping away.

Peter was almost at the Avenger's tower when he sensed something flying towards him from behind so he dodged into an alleyway. An arrow flew past and exploded in mid air. Something wrapped around his ankle and tugged him down. He hit the ground, hard, but he quickly pulled himself together and stood up, ready for a fight. A tall figure stood a few feet away. He wore a mask shaped as a skull and a hooded cape. A bow was slung over his shoulder and he carried a shield that looked an awful lot like Captain America's. Peter hadn't seen him before, but guessed who he was from the distinct appearance. Black Widow had described someone that looked like this. "Taskmaster?"

"Spider-Man knows who I am? How touching!" he taunted.

"What do you want?" 

"I've had some sources tell me you're involved with the Black Cat. Mind telling me where she is?"

"Why?" The eyes of Peter's mask squinted at him.

"Let's just say her nine lives are up," said Taskmaster, his voice low and threatening.

"What did she do to have a mercenary want to chase her down?"

"She's Manhattan's most wanted cat burglar. I thought Spider-Man knew this stuff, keep up!" 

"She lied to me," said Peter quietly, deep in thought. At least it explained the things he saw in her apartment. And her costume. How could he be so stupid? _Get your head in the game, Spidey_! Wade must've been a bigger distraction than he'd originally thought. _Great. Now I'm thinking about Wade. But when am I not?_

Taskmaster unsheathed a sword from under his cape and swung at his legs. Peter jumped up and kicked him with both feet in the chest, to which he went flying backwards and hit the brick wall. 

"Hmm, you've actually got some moves. I'll have to bring my A game this time," said Taskmaster tauntingly. He stood up quickly, bouncing his shield off the wall. Peter heard a beeping sound as it came spinning towards him. He managed to dodge it, but couldn't prevent the blast that followed. He was on the ground, his ears ringing. His vision was blurry but he could see Taskmaster creeping slowly towards his helpless body.

Peter tried to snap out of it, but the ringing was so intense and he couldn't feel his legs. _Are they gone? Shit shit shit, they're gone!_ A red blob ran towards Taskmaster and tackled him to the ground. Peter tried to see what happened after that, but the sky went black. 


	8. Non-lethal

Peter drifted in and out of consciousness. At one point he was awake long enough to make out the high-rise buildings towering above him and the bright blue sky, although blurry. As he felt the tight grip around his legs and chest, he became very aware of the warm body that was carrying him. "Legs... not gone," he groaned.

"Pete?" is all he heard before the world faded out again.

Peter jerked awake to the loud honk of a horn. A jolt of pain zapped through his body as he lifted his arm to check the time. 7 _pm._ He tried to look up at the sky but something was blocking his view. Reaching up, he pulled a piece of paper off his forehead. There was a note written on it in messy handwriting.

_Courtesy, your friendly neighborhood 'Pool_

Memories of Taskmaster flooded back into his brain. Wade had saved him? Why?

He didn't deserve to be saved. 

Then he remembered Felicia, or, _Black Cat._ She really was playing a game. He had to talk to her, make sure Taskmaster wasn't lying.

"Fucking hell," he muttered, scrambling to get up and leaning himself against the wall. It felt like a few ribs were broken. He thought he might've had a concussion too after he felt his head start to throb. Holding his side, he slid back down the wall and took a few minutes to gather what strength he had left. He gave Tony a call, letting him know he wouldn't make it to the lab that day, and then swung back to Felicia's place.

He was on her fire escape in a few minutes. He looked through the window into her dark apartment. He was starting to think she was gone, but he saw a flash of white hair move across the living room. He quickly opened the window and slipped in. "Hey."

Felicia was in her costume and about to go out the door. She turned, hand still on the doorknob. "Hey Spider," she said calmly, "Sneaky, aren't you? Didn't even hear the window open."

"I ran into Taskmaster. Had a couple things to say about you."

"I heard."

The eyes of Peter's mask squinted at her in question.

"Your friend came for a visit."

"Who?" Peter's eyes widened.

Felicia gave him a smug look. 

"Wade?" 

"Bingo," she whispered, opening the door. 

"Why? Wait-" Peter was across the room in a second, pulling her back into the apartment and closing the door. "You're a cat burglar? Why did you lie?" 

"Spider-Man would've thought less of me." Taking advantage of his touch, she pulled him closer, her arms around his neck. "You smell like blood. Want a shower?" she smirked.

"What? No!" Peter pushed her away. He backed into the room and looked around. "I don't get it. You stole all this? You could use your skills to help people! Why waste it?" 

Felicia didn't answer; only stared as he inspected the room. The moment he turned his back to look at the desk, he heard the door start to open so he shot a web and stuck her hand to the doorknob. She let out a sigh. "What's not to get? I'm a thief. Born a thief. Raised a thief. Will die a thief. There's really no way around it, Pete."

Peter scanned the desk. The flash drives were gone. She must have been planning something. Her next take, probably.

"Where are the-" is all Peter said before he realized she was gone. "How the hell?" 

He looked out the door into the hallway but there was no sight of her. He ran down all the stairs to the lobby and looked both ways down the street when he got outside. There was no way to track her down. She was long gone. 

Peter felt his phone buzz. He pulled it out and stared at the bright screen. 

_I thought you knew that black cats bring bad luck._ <3 xo

Peter frowned. He'd have to deal with her later. He needed to apologize to Wade.

***

Wade had fallen asleep to the faint pitter-patter of rain after his boxes went silent. One minute they were screaming at him about all his terrible life choices, and the next, it was like they stormed out of the room and slammed the door in his face like an angsty teen. The room being his brain, that is. It wasn't normal for his boxes to do this. Maybe he said something to really offend them this time. It was easy for him to fall asleep after his head had been emptied. After a while his boxes snaked their way back into his mind.

{How's it feel to realize you're the biggest piece of shit to ever grace the gates of hell?}

[And then finding out that not even Death herself will let you in?]

"Did it really take you that long to think of a comeback? My mother could do better than that, and she's dead!"

{At least she _has_ that privilege.}

[Ooh burrnn.]

Wade grit his teeth and tightened the grip on the knife that he'd tucked under his pillow. "If you were actual people, I'd be gutting you both like a fish right now." His boxes chatted back and forth with each other for who knows how long until they were stunned into silence once again. This time, it wasn't because of something Wade said. It was caused by a thump on the outside wall followed by the window sliding open. 

"I knew you'd come crawling back. Literally," he said once Peter dropped from the ceiling. Wade was laying on his side, back turned to Peter, his hand now a tentative grip on the knife under his pillow. Without saying a word, Peter sat on the bed and pulled his mask off. "Whatever pity party you've brought here, I don't want it," muttered Wade.

"What's with your pillow?" asked Peter.

"What?"

"It's all bloody."

"Oh yeah. That. Your hot blonde sex buddy cut my fingers off. But don't worry! They've grown back now. See?" Wade lifted his arm and wiggled his new fingers.

"She's not... wait. She told you we had sex?"

"Uh yeah. Was she better than me? Were you ashamed of us? Is that why you left? Are you one of those guys who hates homosexuals but only because he is one himself? If that's the case, Peter, I'm glad you were able to take your feelings out on me. I hope I was of good use."

"Nothing happened with Felicia, okay? She just gave me a place to stay for the night. Now it's clear to me that she only wanted to satisfy herself. Wade... I'm not ashamed of anything. I-I like you," he stuttered. "Believe it or not."

"Then why'd you run out?" Wade finally sat up and turned to face him.

Peter took a deep breath. "I thought you were a bad guy. Someone who takes everything and gives nothing. After getting to know Felicia, I realized she's like that, not you. You've a big heart, even though you don't show it sometimes." 

Wade sat with his legs crossed and held his hands in his lap, looking down at his calloused fingers. He watched his own chest rise and fall for a few moments. _Peter didn't actually mean that, did he?_

_{_ Don't believe him. _}_

[He's only trying to clean up his own mistakes so he can be content with himself.]

The next thing Wade knew, Peter had scooted up towards him and was placing his hands around his neck. "You saved my life," Peter said quietly.

Wade stared into the younger man's doe eyes and sighed. "So?"

"And you didn't kill Felicia."

"If I did, you'd get all your webs in a bunch."

"What happened to Taskmaster?"

"He ran off. Been scared of me since our last run in when I shot him with a horse tranquilizer." 

"Non-lethal? You've gone soft."

"Actually..." Wade stopped what he was about to say when he saw the look on Peter's face. "...Ah never mind. I'll spare you from a bad joke. But just this once."

{Since when are you one for self-control?}

[Just give it a minute, you'll see.]

The expression that Peter's face changed to made Wade's stomach do back flips. He couldn't tell whether he was scared or happy. "Peter?" he breathed. Peter pulled Wade towards him and pressed their lips together, catching him off guard. He moaned into Wade's mouth and slipped his tongue in, his arms still wrapped around him and clenching the fabric of his shirt. Wade grabbed his waist, pulling him in as close as possible. 

Wade pulled back and Peter whimpered at the loss of his mouth. "Okay fuck it. I'm not soft. I'm incredibly, incredibly hard." 

Peter gave a breathy laugh. "C'mere," he said, and they picked up their rhythm again.

This kiss wasn't like their first one; they were both invested in it this time. From that point on, Wade had a feeling their next kiss, and the ones after that, would be exactly this way. Deeply, and utterly, invested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this fic turned out a lot different from what I intended... I like how it ended up though. Hope you did too! Thanks for reading XD  
> (Btw, I might add in things after completion)


End file.
